Commentary: We are all crazy

Crazy can be good, crazy can be bad. But lump us all into the same boat right now. What I mean by that statement is, Phillies fans, generally speaking, are getting into crazy territory.

On one hand, fandom is at an all time high, and I couldn’t be happier for this city, this franchise, this great group of people who follow this team inside and out everyday. We pack the house nightly, spending our hard earned money on a team that knows how to entertain.

On the other hand, we’ve become unhinged over a player; a man who plays in country just north of here. The Roy Halladay Extravaganza has nearly reached its fever pitch, and people everywhere are constantly refreshing their browser waiting, hoping, for an update. I’m just as guilty as the rest, perhaps because my “job” is to write about all things Phillies, and I’m somewhat ashamed of my actions.

As far as being a fan, I can’t say I’ve enjoyed myself more than I have over the last year. As I walked into Citizens Bank Park on Tuesday for game two of the Cubs series, the stadium appeared to be a giant magnet. People were being sucked through the gates by forces foreign to them. Forty-five thousand strong all pulled in by a team that gives us reason to care.

But do we care a bit too much? The constant trade proposals by armchair GM’s has hit a new level that may be unparalleled. It certainly shows that the fan is immersed in the day-to-day happenings of the organization, but it also reflects the relative obsession over one player. Over and over in my head, and occasionally on a pad of paper, I’ve written down Halladay’s name and below it the names of rotating Phillies farmhands that may be involved. Sickness? You betcha.

Do I want to see Roy Halladay in red pinstripes? Who doesn’t. But, do I spend far too much time on the subject? Guilty as charged. Only a few more days until the madness subsides and we get back to breaking down spray charts and how Chan Ho Park fares with runners on and two out in high leverage situations in the month of August.

We might all be crazy, but at least we’re crazy together, rooting for the same craziness in the same crazy ballpark.